


Selfie

by Estirose



Category: Wilde Life (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estirose/pseuds/Estirose
Summary: Sylvia contemplates a camera, and her life with Oscar.





	Selfie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toe/gifts).



The camera - the Polaroid camera that Oscar had set up, the one with the self-developing film - was sitting on the table. Sylvia hovered in front of it. Oscar had been telling her about the "selfies" that were all the rage, and she'd thought about how it would be nice to take one. It would fit right in with the one that Oscar had taken, the one she’d looked at so many times because it meant so much to her, to be with someone, to exist, to be instead of just hanging on the edges of other peoples’ lives.

Oscar had the picture of the two of them together in his bedroom - away from where the casual eye could see, but where he could see it. It was a symbol of them together, spending their lives together, but Sylvia wanted one of her own. It was a reflection of how she existed, what this camera and Oscar meant to her.

There was Cliff in their lives too, now, a part of their family, their strange found family of a normal man, a ghostly wife and an adopted almost-son. Not that she and Oscar could marry, but there wasn't anybody else in his life, or hers.

She wondered if Oscar could adopt, if they could raise a child together. It had been so long since there had been kids around this house. The 1970s or 1980s, she thought, adorable children that she’d loved so much and wished she’d gotten to know. The rest had been adults before Cliff had crashed into both their lives. Crashed into being part of the life that she and Oscar had made, that strange and new home, and never left. 

Crashed into their lives and led Oscar into danger. She bit her lip, wondering if there was a way to go with Oscar, maybe keep him safe. In the audiobook that Oscar had rented from the library, there was a ghostly detective who accompanied a bookstore owner who kept solving mysteries. He'd been restricted to the bookstore at first, but once she'd found a coin that belonged to him he'd been able to accompany her. It sounded like the detective had fallen in love with the bookstore owner, even though the bookstore owner was oblivious to that. 

Just like maybe Oscar was, despite bringing the audiobook home for her. She wasn’t sure of how he felt about the whole matter. Maybe she wasn’t sure of how she felt, either. Sylvia had been too concerned with numbers, her equations, to think about marriage or even falling in love; she’d been needed, and her work had been important. If the men at the front line could aim better at the enemy, that was what was needed.

And now? She wasn’t alive, and she really hadn’t had a life since she’d died. Which, she supposed, was the point of being dead. One wasn’t supposed to live like this, stuck in between the living world and the afterlife. Maybe she needed to fall in love to go on, but she hoped not. She didn’t want to leave Oscar behind, abandon him, even by accident.

She’d been abandoned herself so many times by the families who had lived there and didn’t want to do that to Oscar. He didn’t deserve it. He’d been alone in so many ways, even if he’d lived with his family, and she didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore.

“Sylvia? Are you here?” Oscar asked, coming into the house with his groceries. He was a kind man, she thought. He was there for her as much as he could be, considering. He hadn’t expected at all to have her as a housemate, and he’d taken to her quite well. Not everybody would have, and he was definitely special.

“I’m here,” she said. Should she take the picture? She’d been contemplating that for a while, after all. Sylvia knew that would make Oscar happy, for her to use what he had brought her – at least more than the cards and the CD player. Besides, even if the Polaroid didn’t really require shaking, it would be better to have him shake it if necessary.

She had a feeling it didn’t matter, because he had faith in her. He’d told her more than once that his strength wasn’t with numbers. He’d let her help him with his budget, since she was the one with the math background, and seemed truly grateful that she was there for him. 

He smiled as he spotted her. “You need help with that? I’m just going to put the groceries away.” He motioned towards the kitchen with one grocery-laden arm. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to pull the picture out for me,” she said, smiling back at him. “I can take the picture.” It was better if he did what he needed to do, then came back to help her. After all, she shouldn’t need much help with this. She felt that she could press a button, if nothing else.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, heading into the kitchen. He didn’t really have that many groceries, but she’d noticed that he’d started to bring home a little more once Cliff had started coming around. She enjoyed watching him bake and cook, even if she couldn’t smell anything or taste his food.

She debated whether to join him into the kitchen or take the picture. The better thing to do was to wait, just so that Oscar could watch her image appear. She floated towards the kitchen, passing effortlessly through the wall.

He was methodically putting the groceries away as she floated through, the refrigerated things first, and then the frozen, and then the staple and cupboard items. She enjoyed watching him work, even if it shouldn’t be exciting at all.

Sylvia knew that part of the reason she felt this way was because she was dead, and that maybe being a ghost for so long amplified her emotions. She’d taken psychology in college, after all. She knew a bit about the subject.

After he was done, he turned around. He wasn’t startled by her presence at all, just letting her lead him back to the living room. She leaned in front of the camera, pressing the button. She knew that the button opened the lens for a tiny fraction of a second, like the cameras of old; only the film was radically different.

And then she reached for the film after it came out of the camera. To her relief, she was able to pick it up, even shake it a little. Oscar walked over to stand with her, not helping when she didn’t need it, only being there if she needed it.

But she didn’t. The image formed, her ghostly face filling the film. It was even a little blurry, too close, but not bad considering that she shouldn’t have been able to take a picture like this at all. She offered it to Oscar, feeling tired, and he took it from her.

“How do I look?” she asked, peering at him.

“Wonderfully,” he responded. The smile was genuine, it always was. It was a reminder of why she loved him, why she was glad she was there, why she wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. With him, she was complete, and maybe, just maybe, they would get to spend forever together.


End file.
